All the King's Men
by Aleisha Potter
Summary: When tragedy strikes, Oliver must make a choice, will he step up... or step out.  Warning: Deals with rape, non/con, ect.  You've been warned.  ANGST ahead!


_Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,_

_Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,_

_All the king's horses,_

_And_

_All the king's men,_

_Couldn't put Humpty Dumpty back together again._

**Chapter One**

Chloe stared down at the small, white plastic stick she held. Two pink lines blared up at her, confirming her suspicions. She was pregnant. She should have guessed, morning sickness, the bloating… the fact that she hadn't had a period in almost two months. They were all classic signs of impending motherhood. Yet, she wasn't jumping for joy.

…_pain…_

She made her way out of the bathroom and into her makeshift bedroom she had jumbled together for the nights she couldn't make herself leave the Watchtower. Sitting down on the bed, she let her mind wonder to Oliver. What would he think about this? After all, this didn't just affect her; he was going to be a father as surely as she was going to be a mother.

…_cold, hard stone…_

Picking up her phone, she decided telling him as soon as possible was the best option. They had a lot to discuss and she could really use his support right now.

…_the foul, rotten stench of his breath…_

Chloe ran back to the bathroom, barely making it before her meager breakfast exited her stomach via her mouth. Her heart raced and her breathing grew erratic. She heaved twice more before deciding that her stomach was empty.

Sitting back, she grabbed a clean wash rag. Turning on the tap, she drenched the rag in cool water then used it to clean her face and mouth. Reaching for her toothbrush, she vigorously scrubbed her teeth, determined to rid her mouth of the acidic taste that always lingered after she had been sick.

Once she felt like she had her body under control, she went back out to the kitchen. Her mind was still reeling, flitting from thought to thought until her eyes landed on the mixing bowl she had set out in preparation for the breakfast she had planned on making until she had woken up sick to her stomach. Her furrowed brow smoothed out and a small smile made its way onto her face.

Pancakes.

Pancakes meant Ollie and Ollie meant peace.

Picking up her phone, she dialed the number she knew so well, waiting only two rings before his smooth voice filtered through the headset and she sighed.

Oliver.

"Hey, Ollie. Can you swing by the Watchtower before you head into the office this morning? There's something I'd like to talk to you about if you have the time," she told him, pulling out her coffee grounds to make him a pot of coffee. She wouldn't be drinking the stuff, not in her condition, but she knew he would probably want some, would probably _need_ some once she shared her news with him.

"_Yeah, sure. Give me half an hour and I'll be there."_

"Okay, thanks. See you then," she told him, ending the call before going back to the task at hand.

* * *

Oliver Queen casually made his way into Watchtower, dressed for a day of business meetings and boring execs. He was seriously hoping his blond sidekick would cheer him up; a morning snuggle with Chloe could brighten his day and lift his spirits. She was always like a breath of fresh air for him. She could turn the worst of days into sunshine and roses. Her smile, well, everything about her made his body sing.

"Hey, Chloe. You seem really chipper this morning," he greeted her from across the counter. She turned in surprise and nearly dropped the coffee pot.

"Oliver! Jesus, you scared me!" she told him, placing a hand on her chest.

"Sorry, Sidekick, didn't mean to startle you. I thought you were expecting me."

"No, I was. You just caught me off guard," she answered, her eyes darting nervously around the room. He had noticed her doing that a lot lately. She was never content to stay in one place, constantly needing to move. Her eyes would dart around any room they stood in. She seemed on edge lately and he couldn't put his finger on what her problem was. He normally had no problem reading her, but the last few weeks she was a mystery.

"You okay?" he asked, coming around the counter to take the coffee pot from her trembling hands.

"Yeah, fine," she told him, eyes still darting around until they came to settle on something on the counter. A small smile made its way onto her lips and then she raised her eyes to his. "Coffee?" she asked.

"Uh, sure," he answered, wondering what had just happened. He looked at the counter, but all he could see was an empty mixing bowl. Wasn't the first time he'd seen an empty mixing bowl these last few weeks, but he'd paid it no mind. Instead, he graced her with a smile of intrigue. What did she have for him this time?

"So, Sidekick, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Chloe seemed to pause at that before continuing to fill the coffee pot with water.

"I suppose there's no easy way to say this. Oliver… I'm pregnant," she told him, turning quickly to gauge his reaction.

Oliver just stood there, mouth agape. It took a few minutes for her words to penetrate his brain.

Had she said what he thought she said? To be sure, "Run that by me again."

"I'm pregnant."

Yep. She had said what he thought she said.

Oliver sat down on one of the bar stools that stood around the small counter. He immediately thought back over the last few weeks, trying to remember if there was a time when they hadn't been careful, but his mind came up blank.

"Are you sure?" he asked warily, not quite able to comprehend the truth of it yet.

Chloe's eyes seemed to mist over.

"Yes, I'm sure… as sure as I can be with home pregnancy tests alone. You… you aren't happy, are you?" Not that she could blame him, of course.

"No! Chloe, it's not that! I'm just surprised is all! Wow… a baby. How?" he asked with genuine curiosity, then laughing when she raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't think I needed to explain the birds and the bees to you," she quipped.

"Very funny, Chloe. That's not what I meant. I meant, when? We were always so careful."

"It would have to be the night we made pancakes," she answered surely.

Ollie paused at that, wracking his brain for any memory of ever making pancakes with her. He once again came up blank.

"Was I drunk?" he asked, his expression that of confusion.

"Nope, sober, so you don't have any excuse for forgetting to put your little diving suit on," she told him cheekily.

"As opposed to someone forgetting to take her pill?" he countered easily, his own cheek coming through loud and clear. God, he loved bantering with her.

"You know I just switched pills. It takes a couple months to be safe, hence the diving suit, Mr. Queen," she reminded him rather smugly, placing the coffee pot on its warmer and starting the brewing cycle.

"Oh crap!" she gasped, quickly turning the coffee maker off again. "I forgot the coffee!" she told him, frantically scooping out the desired amount of black powder and placing it in the maker. "I don't know what's wrong with me!"

"Absentmindedness must be catching," Oliver said as he wrapped his arms loosely around her, stopping her from acting like a loon. A casual, easy hug had been her favorite these last few weeks and now he knew why. He'd heard that pregnancy could make some women adverse to too much affection. "Because I can't remember making pancakes."

Chloe gave him a disbelieving look as she leaned back from him.

"How can you forget?" she asked, her smile fading into a slight pout. "That was an important night, Oliver."

"Well, why don't you tell me about it, remind me," he offered, trying not to let the bubble of dread turn into the Goodyear blimp.

"It was a few weeks ago, probably a month or so. We were going to meet at Watchtower after I met Lois at the Daily Planet. I was late leaving Lois, so I took that shortcut through the alley… the one you always tell me to avoid," she told him, her eyes losing focus as she remembered that night.

Oliver remembered a night he was _supposed _to meet her at the Watchtower, but he had ended up being called away to a Queen Industries plant where a large chemical fire had broken out. He'd never made it to the Tower or to her.

"I met you at the Watchtower and I made you pancakes… pancakes to say I was sorry, for not listening. Only… I… I knocked them off, off the counter. They fell to the ground," she told him, speaking as if she were in a trance. "They got dirty. Very dirty. I tried really hard to clean them off for you, but… they just wouldn't come clean. No matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn't get them clean. They were supposed to be special pancakes, just for you, but I ruined them."

"Chloe, they're just pancakes," he told her, the bubble of dread turned to worry in his chest. Something was wrong with Chloe… he would remember dirty pancakes.

Chloe's confused look disappeared and was replaced once more by her trademark smile.

"I know, but I worked really hard on them and it was such a waste."

Oliver looked closely into her eyes. There. Right behind her twinkling green orbs he saw it: unadulterated fear.

* * *

Chloe could feel her hands start to tremble again. _Why __can't __he remember? It was an important night! He __had__ to remember!_

She searched his eyes for any hint as to what was going on in his brain.

…_so much blood…_

Oliver stared back into her eyes; a look of worried confusion graced his features.

"Chloe, are you okay?"

"Fine, why wouldn't I be? You're the one that seems to have a few important memories missing," she told him, her heart racing.

…_cold stone and more pain…_

Chloe's breathing got a little faster, a little more erratic.

"Chloe," Oliver asked, beyond worry and panic by this point.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she told him before bolting for the bathroom. A few seconds later he could hear the horrible sound of her retching into the toilet.

* * *

His brow furrowed as he went over to the compact washer and dryer set she kept at the Tower and opened the dryer to find her a clean washcloth for her face. He knew she would need one when she was done.

He didn't understand her fear, his fear, or what any of it meant until he opened the dryer and started to look for a cloth.

There was a purple silk top and her black pencil skirt she loved so much in addition to a couple towels. It wasn't the contents that caught his attention though; it was the state they were in. The shirt was torn on the shoulder and the skirt was ripped. All the pieces had horrible dark brown staining on them, staining he recognized as blood.

He felt the bile rise up in his throat. He thought back on her words. He remembered her story as she had told it.

"…_they fell to the floor…"_

"…_I tried to clean them, but no matter how hard I scrubbed, they wouldn't come clean…"_

"…_I took the shortcut through the alley…"_

"…_I should have listened…"_

"…_I'm pregnant…"_

_No,_ he thought. _NO, NO, NO!_ Oliver's breathing grew labored and his chest ached with the effort to keep his breakfast down. There had to be another explanation.

He thought back to the look in her eyes when she spoke. It was almost as if she wasn't here, but… somewhere else… she was disconnected.

Ollie felt tears burn his eyes. He glanced back down at the towels and the clothes. No… it couldn't have happened to her… not Chloe, she was too strong, too… too…

He swallowed hard and buried his thoughts. He couldn't do this right now… Chloe needed him. She was in there, getting sick. First things first, he needed to get her to the doctor. If… _something_ had happened, she needed medical attention. She also needed someone to look at her and make sure the… _their_ baby was okay.

He gave up on the wash cloth and grabbed a paper towel instead. He made his way back to the bathroom just as she was finishing up.

"Here," he offered, wetting the towel down and handing it to her.

"Thanks, sorry about this, it's been pretty bad today," she told him, smiling weakly.

"It's fine. Why don't you tidy yourself up a little bit and I'll call Emil. We should get you in and let him look you over. Just to make sure you and our baby are okay," he told her, watching a flash of panic shoot through her eyes.

"O-okay," she answered. "Good idea. Just give me a minute to brush my teeth."

"No problem. Take your time and I'll give Emil a call."

Oliver closed the door and his smile fell from his face. He pulled out his phone and dialed the doctor's number. He didn't know what he was going to say, hell, he didn't even know _exactly_ what had happened, but he had a pretty good idea and the thought made him want to hurl. He recognized her actions, he had seen coping mechanisms at their worst before.

"Emil, it's Oliver. Listen, I have an issue I need your help with. Can you squeeze Chloe in this morning? It's important," he asked through the headset.

"_That shouldn't be a problem, it's pretty slow today. Can you be here in twenty minutes?"_

"Sure, that sounds perfect. Thanks Emil."

"_Not a problem."_

Oliver stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He took a deep breath then turned back to face the bathroom door. Once he could unlock what ever secret she was holding, he would find out who did this, and he would make them suffer.

**A/N: Okay, well, this isn't going to be a lighthearted story by any means. It will be full of angst and if non consensual sex bothers you, you might want to skip this fic. Please, let me know what you guys think, there's much more to come, don't worry, and a few twist and turns a long the way... and yes, I know I am the queen of WIP, well, the princess, strom has claimed the title of Queen, lol, but I will finish my works, I actually have quite a bit written for everything, just need to get it ready for the public, so... you know that sexy little button down there? The one that is calling to you, the one that says REVIEW? If you love me, you'll hit it!**


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